Bible Reading: Galatians 3:23-29 & Luke 8:26-39
Dear Friends
In our Gospel reading this week Luke 8:26-29, I was struck very much by the tail-end of verse 27: “he did not live in a house but in the tombs.” The details of this man’s life are already bleak. Completely dominated by what has mastered him, unable to restrain himself or be restrained, naked and alone, we discover he is also homeless, abandoned, and lives among the tombs; that is, among the dead, in a wasteland, in territory considered unclean, unsafe, and unapproachable. Horrible. And yet, if we’re honest, not unfamiliar. There are very likely people in our congregation who have experienced homelessness or been on the brink of that experience. Others “live in the tombs” and in the place of death more metaphorically, but no less painfully.
Those trapped by mental illness or addiction. Those in abusive relationships. Those who feel terribly alone. Those who feel that something they’ve done, or something that has been done to them, disqualifies them from acceptance. Those who have been rejected because they do not conform to the norms and identities with which we are most comfortable. Those who struggle to find any sense of value in themselves or purpose in life. And the list goes on. Indeed,
broadening what it means to “live in the tombs” in this way, there is likely not a single person who has not had this experience.
What’s easy to overlook in this odd story of eventual healing is that this whole encounter between Jesus and this man lost and living in the tombs is the result of a nearly inexplicable and totally unnecessary detour. This larger scene is set in motion by Jesus’ decision to cross to the other side of the lake. Luke’s narration makes it sound so incredibly happenstance: “One day, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, ‘Let’s go across to the other side of the lake’” (v. 22). That’s it. No rationale, like pressing crowds or the need for rest. It’s not a shortcut to some ultimate destination. And no plan or purpose is made apparent. Just a desire to cross from the familiar to the unfamiliar, from the known countryside of Capernaum and Galilee to the land of the Gerasenes… and to this man. Which may mean that Jesus’ whole point with this detour is to seek him out. To rescue him from his occupation, to return to him his life. While it may seem utterly unnecessary to us, that is, it is absolutely necessary, even crucial, to Jesus and his mission. This is what Jesus does seek out and finds the lost. Even more, this is who Jesus is the one who is: the one who brings good news to the poor, proclaims release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and lets the oppressed go free (4:18).
And here’s the thing: Jesus is still doing that. He is still going out of his way, still taking the long route, still crossing boundaries, still daring to meet us in the middle of our tombs, in order to heal and restore us. To put it another way, if Jesus goes so far out of his way to encounter this one man, what will keep him from seeking us out, from meeting us where we are and accepting us as we are, from inviting us to come out of the tombs, from daring us to imagine life in abundance, from bidding us to share the news of what has been done for us. The answer, in short, is nothing. Nothing will keep Jesus from reaching out to us, finding us, accepting us, releasing us, calling us, loving us. Nothing.
Solomzi